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Showing posts from August, 2023

In Tatters

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I knelt at His feet in the utter mess I’d made. My struggle to succeed was stark. No one had ever seen me so disheveled…in such embarrassing circumstances. As He cleaned me up for the second time two minutes, I looked up to meet His steady gaze and tried to gauge his reaction. Disgust at another disastrous, completely unimpressive act of service? Frustrated at my inability to get it together? Sadistically amused at another ridiculous unglamorous predicament I’d once again found myself in? I knew he was taking in every fucking minute detail of the wreck before Him and squirreling it away in the vault of His mind, but what did He feel? His stoic expression offered me no hint. Without comment He stood firm in front of me. Fuckin unwavering. He hadn’t walked away. He hadn’t stepped back. I swear He may have even leaned in. As soon as I’d semi-collected myself, I began my third attempt even as I tried in vain to push the remaining proof of my ineptitude out of view, hoping it would simply
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Lose Control

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Music has always fed my soul, but I'm embarrassed to admit how much I've lost touch with it.  The last six months, I've purposely opened myself up again to cultivate its unique love, passion, and joy in my life.  Often it's those closest to me who lead me to tracks that speak so deeply to me.  This one?  Compliments of my sister, Bastet. ~sigh~ From the first line, it gripped me by the throat and said, "Bitch, listen."  The storytelling of a passion without logic or reason that strips any scrap of pride from the soul...left me hypnotized, lost in a memory I can still barely wrap my mind around.   Only one Man has ever inspired in me this kind of soul-tumbling, pride-bruising complete loss of control.  He's the first to ever bring my lioness fully to the surface under Him, scattering all my logic, all my intentions, all my slick little cute moves...leaving only a primal hungry reasonless beast growling in a heat and lust so complete I couldn't rememb
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Stripping Off the Bullshit

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The last six months I've been in the process of intentional purging—shedding the physical, mental, and emotional layers that no longer serve me.  I've done this before at other key points in my life.  This urge often precedes a time of major transformation in my life, each of which has always brought me closer in alignment to my truth and the fulfillment of my needs and desires.   In many ways, I'm a minimalist with a simple life that holds many complicated...nuances.  After half a dozen cycles of metamorphosis in my years, what I leave behind now holds little to no emotional, mental, or physical value to me.  This round of stripping off the bullshit feels incredibly easy, natural, right.  Wholehearted relief.  I'm cleansing myself of unnecessary weight, so that I can adapt to the future that is coming for me.    Then comes the acknowledgement of what remains.  Previously, I've had to face ugly truths and heal deep wounds that were brought to light.  I won't pre
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Reflection & a New Path

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SPLF 23 represented a abrupt shift in my journey.  I wasn't prepared to be seen, to be acknowledged in the sea of humanity, to be wrapped in tight hugs. let alone be fiercely protected and held firmly side-by-side.  I was both deeply humbled and profoundly honored.  Many times. Those five days in Dallas moved me and pushed me on another new path of transformation. After years of pandemic coping that focused only on areas in my life I could evolve, I remembered I had a heart. And...After years of watching how individuals moved/did not move, stood/did not stand, built/attempted to destroy, were 100% authentic/fakers of funk, driven by idealistic goals/greedy self-promotion, I realized I needed fucking space to breathe. Since the Spring, I've been reevaluating how I move, what I give, when I should engage, where I need to be, and who I directly or indirectly offer my co-signature.  I've taken many healthy steps to create a more positive environment for myself and connected in
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Flesh Privileges

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Sometimes a bitch just needs to be snatched up.  A slow harmless caress that gently eases into thought-shattering pain.  In a heartbeat nothing mattered in my world but where His hand touched me. No passersbys on their way home from their Manhattan commute. No dog walkers following their four-legged companions along crowded sidewalks. No city bike riders feet from His driver's side door. All that mattered was my surrender to Him and the pain that echoed throughout my body. I needed His touch and bruising acts of methodical violence more than I needed my next breath. My world simply felt better suffering under Him. My masochist woke from her slumber and wept in relief. My Lioness stirred for the first time in weeks, listening in case He called. My whore longed for Him to spread her legs and take everything and anything He wanted from her. My dress crept up my thighs even as slickness drenched them. My hands clenched and teeth dug into my bottom lip. I lost count of my quiet whimpers
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